One Witch Wanting
by SecretEve95
Summary: "Perhaps," she spoke, the words caught in her throat in resistance, "you may be right." Hecate found herself enveloped gently in a warm hug. In a robotic motion she returned the embrace. After a short time the potions mistress noticed how the unacknowledged tension she held left her body, and she returned the hug with unprecedented vigour.


One Witch Wanting

"Mildred Hubble," Hecate exclaimed. "You're complete and utter incompetence is astounding. Each and every one of your classmates has succeeded in brewing this simple potion. I am of course not surprised that you are the exception."

The dangerously smooth and menacing undertone of Hecate's voice travelled effortlessly to every corner of the potions lab. Goosebumps erupted on Mildred's skin as she simultaneously inhaled a sharp breath. The potions mistress's eyes bore down threateningly upon her student and the spilled potion contents that had swiftly bubbled over and escaped the containment of the cauldron. Hovering imposingly over the young witch's workstation, the potions mistress magically erased any evidence of her student's blunder with an effortless hand gesture.

"I'm sorry Miss Hardbroom. I must have accidently added too much -,"

"Silence," Hecate whispered dangerously.

Mildred fell silent and all eyes fell upon her.

The potions mistress turned abruptly away from the young witch to face her students. Her keen eyes examined the room and rapidly noted a change in atmosphere among her pupils. Hecate's eyebrows rose in a moment of confusion as she observed smiles spreading across select faces and the collective attention of the hoard of young witches was turned towards the classroom door. In a quick robotic fashion she turned. Her keen gaze fell upon that of Pippa Pentangle. Characteristically clad head to toe in pink clothing the blonde witch was found to be leaning, arms crossed, against the door frame. Her eyes were alight with inquisitiveness and smile played at the corners of her lips.

"Well met, Miss Hardbroom," she spoke in a pleasant manner as she removed herself from the doorframe to regain her upright posture in order to gesture accordingly. She continued by offering "Well met, girls."

"Well met," Hecate replied, courteously bowing in return. Her platitudes were eagerly echoed by the classroom of young witches as they each chorused "Well met, Miss Pentangle."

At that moment the school bell sounded. Instantly the young witches hurriedly scooped up their belongings and shovelled them into their satchels enthusiastic to now have reached the end of another school day. Pippa passed the threshold into the classroom to make way for the students as they filed out. She offered each of them a smile as they passed her. The blonde witch observed as Mildred rapidly and haphazardly placed her possessions into her bag. In her haste she clumsily dropped her bag and its contents exploded onto the floor. With a sidelong glance Pippa took notice of the hard-hearted and unwavering stare with which Hecate eyed Mildred. The young witch scrambled to retrieve her belongings causing her to be the last student to leave the potions lab. Mildred offered Pippa a weak smile as they passed.

"Pippa, to what pleasure do I accredit this unexpected visit?"

"You were a little harsh on Mildred, Hecate -,"

"I am harsh on all my pupils," she quipped. The potions mistress ascended the isle the between the rows of classroom desks. Upon doing so she made a series of complex motions that required the use of both her arms and hands. Instantaneously all of the remaining contents of each cauldron vanished, items in all the workspaces reorganised themselves in a neat manner, and any stray stools returned themselves to their rightful places under desks. Hecate strode purposefully back towards the centre of the classroom. She continued, "Knowledge, self-control, and most importantly, discipline, are essential to the development of competent young witches. They are the foundations upon which all strong witches are built. You may do well in remembering that more often, Pippa."

"Now, now, dear, Hecate," the blonde witch replied coolly. "I didn't come here to discuss teaching principles with you. I know better than to challenge you on the subject."

Hecate nodded curtly.

"But I stand firm in my opinion of your treatment of Mildred. I would feel remiss in my duties as an educator if I do not speak out now," Pippa's eyes met those of the witch before her. A tense moment passed between them as Hecate's eyes widened in disbelief. "It can't be easy for a girl of her background -,"

"Which is precisely why she must work harder than every other girl here to reach the required standards of witchcraft," she challenged forthwith. "It still stands to be seen whether she truly belongs here."

"Not belonging is something that you were once very familiar with, Hecate," Pippa rebuked in a soft and steady tone of voice.

The other woman's expression changed to that of alarm and she came to a complete standstill with her arms hanging limp by her sides. Pippa crossed the short distance between them in a few strides and placed her hands upon Hecate's arms. She squeezed her affectionately.

"Mildred has the strength that comes from having a loving family, and there was a time when you did not. You had the prestige that comes from a having a highly respectable witching family name, and Mildred does not. They say that opposites attract. Between the two of you there must be some common ground to share," Pippa searched the opulent brown eyes of the witch before her. "Anyway, let's leave this issue to rest now. I can agree to disagree if we must."

Hecate took a deep breath in an exhaled slowly. As she did this her features softened, and she relaxed into Pippa's warm touch.

"Perhaps," she spoke, the words caught in her throat in resistance, "you may be right."

Hecate found herself enveloped gently in a warm hug. In a robotic motion she returned the embrace. After a short time Hecate noticed how the unacknowledged tension she held left her body, and she returned the hug with unprecedented vigour. She became acutely aware of the pressing of Pippa's body against her own and the elation that ignited within her as a result. Hecate felt untamed feelings of affection for the blonde witch rise and flow within her chest with each breath and silent moment they shared.

"We have a lot of catching up to do," Pippa whispered smoothly into her ear. Hecate shivered involuntarily.

The late afternoon found Mildred seated cross-legged on the grass by the pond. Her sketchbook was open in her lap and she was bent over it working in earnest. The young witch was peripherally aware of nearby frogs as they croaked their musings and an overcast sky that hovered above. There were no other students in this part of the school grounds at the time and Mildred had come to find that she enjoyed the silence and the soothing company of nature. The young witch received a dreadful fright as her peripheral vision became suddenly aware of the silent appearance of a dark figure beside her. Standing tall and resolute was Miss Hardbroom.

"Mildred Hubble, I need to speak with you."

Mildred cast aside her sketchbook and utensils and turned her attention upon the potions mistress. The young witch motioned to stand but she was met with an unexpected hand gesture that invited her to stay seated. Instead, the older witch manoeuvred awkwardly to seat herself on the ground beside Mildred. She settled, knees bent, with her hand leaning upon the grass. Mildred noted the hypnotic way in which Miss Hardbroom's timepiece swung against her chest with each of her movements before becoming still once more. The young witch became filled with unease in response to the uncertainty of what was to come. Miss Hardbroom began to speak in her usual smooth and unwavering tone.

"I have observed time and time again your abysmal performance in my potions class. It was hoped that the guidance of a capable girl from a respectable witching family would curb your particular predilection for failure and your ineptitude might be quelled. However, it has become increasingly clear that this is not to be the case. You have proven yourself to be a magnet for disaster," she concluded in an intimidating undertone.

"I'm sorry, Miss Hardbroom," Mildred began. "I-,"

"Do not interrupt me, Mildred Hubble."

The young witch pursed her lips and fell silent. Dejectedly she turned her gaze upon her teacher. With a sidelong glance she watched as the thin line of the potions mistress's lips relaxed and her frown lessened. She noted how the eyebrows of the witch beside her fell somewhat before knitting together in concentration and the lines on her forehead rearranged themselves accordingly. Mildred absentmindedly fingered the grass beneath her as apprehension and reverence churned within the pit of her stomach. Unexpectedly, the corners of Miss Hardbroom's lips curled ever so slightly into an uncharacteristic smile.

"Will you show me your drawing?" she enquired in a softer tone of voice.

Sensing the potion mistress's change in demeanour, Mildred hesitantly offered her open sketchbook to the older witch. Hecate's eyes widened in surprise in response to the drawing she was presented with. Depicted on the page with great care and detail was a sketch of herself and Pippa. They were positioned side by side, smiling, with their arms around each other's shoulders. The potions mistress glanced steadfast at the young witch beside her.

"People are the hardest to draw; especially their faces," Mildred offered by way of explanation as she tripped and stumbled over each word. Evading the eyes of older witch, she cast her gaze forward and warmth rose and tinged her cheeks. "I've been practicing."

Hecate glanced once more at the artwork she held in her hands, before returning it to the young witch. Surrounded by serenity the pair soaked in the stillness. Hecate observed the mystical way in which the sinking sun tapered softly through the leaves of the tall trees nearby. She felt the cool chill of the evening seep into the earth from which it rose up to meet the parts of her body connected to the ground. She listened as faraway birds melodically squawked and screeched their final proclamations in solute as the curtains began to be drawn on another day. Breathing in she became attuned to the aroma of Mr Rowan-Webb's rose bushes in the near distance. She watched on as a frog hopped eagerly into the water and disturbed the smooth surface until it became stagnant once more.

The potions mistress churned her thoughts over in her mind and examined each one carefully. Here and there she delicately selected and deselected words from a tangled web. With her words ordered neatly she cleared her throat to expel the wrong ones and began to speak.

"You are gifted, Mildred. I am not just referring to your drawing skills," she paused. "We witches don't just use magic. We are magic. It's in our blood. For reasons unbeknownst, you have been gifted the powers of magic; and there is nothing in this world more dangerous than uncontrolled magic."

"I know I don't belong. How could I ever when I don't even belong to a witching family? Maybe you and Ethel have been right this whole time," The young witch replied as an expression of misery and defeat swept her features. "I could never be as clever and powerful a witch as you. I'll never belong."

"I do want to see you succeed," the older witch unexpectedly made eye contact with Mildred and looked away sharply before continuing. "I want all my students to succeed. So I'll share with you this in confidence."

Hecate's facial expression softened, and she turned to face the young witch. Mildred nodded.

"When I was a girl, I also did not belong. My situation was quite the opposite to yours. I did belong to a witching family. However, I was very much an unwanted child. My family name didn't give me any extra power, knowledge or advantage over my peers. My magic came from within me and it grew over time as I gained more self-control, knowledge and discipline," she paused as the following words clawed and caught in her throat. "Difficult though it has been, I have come to believe that the same can be true for you as well. We can choose to not let our backgrounds define us, Mildred."

The young witch was taken aback and entranced by the unexpected humility that Hecate had offered her. The pair shared a moment of meaningful eye contact. Drops of rain began to fall intermittently from the darkening sky above.

"Don't prove me wrong, Mildred Hubble," she spoke smoothly as she easily reinstalled her austere demeanour.

Hecate used her hand to create a swift practiced movement in the air.

The potions mistress vanished.

"I won't, Miss Hardbroom."


End file.
